Page 749 - GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Great Expectations

inquired for Miss Havisham; she was still very ill, though
considered something better.
My inn had once been a part of an ancient ecclesiastical
house, and I dined in a little octagonal common-room,

like a font. As I was not able to cut my dinner, the old
landlord with a shining bald head did it for me. This
bringing us into conversation, he was so good as to
entertain me with my own story - of course with the
popular feature that Pumblechook was my earliest
benefactor and the founder of my fortunes.
‘Do you know the young man?’ said I.
‘Know him!’ repeated the landlord. ‘Ever since he was
- no height at all.’
‘Does he ever come back to this neighbourhood?’
‘Ay, he comes back,’ said the landlord, ‘to his great
friends, now and again, and gives the cold shoulder to the
man that made him.’
‘What man is that?’
‘Him that I speak of,’ said the landlord. ‘Mr.
Pumblechook.’
‘Is he ungrateful to no one else?’
‘No doubt he would be, if he could,’ returned the
landlord, ‘but he can’t. And why? Because Pumblechook
done everything for him.’

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